


Tell the world that we're not finished yet

by Beleriandings



Series: Another year [1]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e11 Utopia, F/F, Post-Episode: s01e13 End of Days, Tosh walks the world with Martha AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28291422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: Tosh had thought that when the Rift had closed again after Bilis and Abaddon, after Jack had come back to life and given them all his forgiveness, that things would return to normal. Or at least normal by Torchwood standards.It’s only when she meets Martha Jones and the Doctor, and finds herself swept off to the far future, that she starts to realise that the end of the world is only just beginning.
Relationships: Jack Harkness & Toshiko Sato, Martha Jones & Toshiko Sato, Martha Jones/Toshiko Sato, light background Jack/Ianto, past one-sided Martha/Ten and Tosh/Owen as per canon
Series: Another year [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156262
Comments: 22
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For @all-time-chemical-panic-boy on tumblr, for the Torchwood Fan Fests 2020 holiday gift exchange! Happy holidays! The (absolutely delightful!) prompt I chose for Tosh/Martha, platonic or romantic (I went with the latter) in a canon divergent AU with a different meeting.  
> Warnings for implied (temporary) character death, references to “off-screen” violence (though nothing depicted explicitly) and a general warning for discussion of the canonical fucked-up things that happen during the Year That Never Was.

“Cardiff!” exclaimed the Doctor.

“Cardiff?” said Martha, surprised, as the Tardis shuddered to a halt.

“Ah, but the thing about Cardiff, it's built on a Rift in time and space, just like California and the San Andreas Fault. But the Rift bleeds energy. Every now and then I need to open up the engines, soak up the energy and use it as fuel.”

“So it’s a pit stop!” said Martha, delighted.

“Exactly. Should only take twenty seconds.” He frowned slightly. “The Rift’s been active.”

But Martha wasn’t paying attention. “Well, I’m going to go take a look outside” she said.

“Like I said, it’s only a quick stop. Won’t take long to refuel.”

“Just a few minutes. I’ve never been to Cardiff before.”

“Suit yourself” said the Doctor, still frowning at the console. “Don’t get into too much trouble… not without me, anyway.”

“Oh, come on. It’s Cardiff, not some alien planet. What could possibly happen?”

“Actually, quite a lot. You’d be surprised.”

But Martha had already opened the doors and stepped out into diffuse sunlight, feeling the saltwater breeze off the bay stir her hair. “Oh, it really is Cardiff!” she said to herself. It did indeed seem to be an ordinary spring afternoon in the twenty-first century. In Cardiff, apparently. All around, people were going about their days as though a police box hadn’t just appeared in the middle of it all.

She was just looking around when her eyes caught on a woman standing some way off, staring at her extremely intently. Martha stared back; from what she could see from this distance, the woman looked mostly harmless. Dressed in ordinary jeans and a burgundy leather jacket. Pretty, too, she found herself thinking. Dark hair and east Asian features, a few years older than Martha was perhaps.

“Oh, hello” said Martha, walking over with a big smile. She was suddenly acutely conscious that this woman had probably just seen the Tardis materialise out of nothing, a sight that Martha was mostly accustomed to these days but other people were distinctly not, she was often reminded. “Um, nothing to see here...”

But the woman only blinked at her, clever dark eyes alight with sudden understanding. “ _Doctor?_ ”

* * *

Tosh was walking back across the Plass with Owen, Gwen and Ianto when it happened. They’d been to get coffee and lunch at their usual place – Ianto having declared the coffee machine in need of repairs after the earthquakes triggered by Abaddon and the Rift had destroyed half the kitchen – and bring it back to the Hub so they could eat with Jack in what remained of the conference room, and start to plan the clean-up with some food and caffeine in them.

But they’d taken their time, satisfied that the city seemed to be alright for now, and that Jack would be there in the Hub after they got back. They’d all been very tactful around Owen, or tried to be; his eyes were still red-rimmed from crying as Jack hugged him and forgave him. But equally, they were all tiptoeing around the other elephant in the room, none of them wanting to be the first to launch into it but all very much wanting to get into interrogating Ianto about that kiss.

Still, it was good to be out in the fresh air, and the short walk had raised all their spirits after three days of gloom. Tosh smiled, watching Gwen laugh at some remark Ianto made, while Owen said something teasing – though without quite so much of the usual bitter note to his voice – that caused Gwen to elbow him in the ribs, giving him a gentle scolding.

Tosh lingered a little way behind, smiling to herself a bit as she watched them. They’d be okay, she thought; things would get better now, or at least she had to hope they would.

But there was still something bothering her. She frowned, pulling her phone from her pocket. Those three days that Jack had been dead had felt like stasis, like a held breath. With the possible exception of Gwen, none of them had really believed Jack was coming back. And yet, Tosh thought as she looked back on it, none of them had acted on that; they hadn’t done any rebuilding yet, hadn’t really started to grieve. Hadn’t done much of anything really, just the most basic tidying up, keeping themselves busy; none of them had been able to concentrate on much work. And though Tosh had gone home for a few hours to try to get some rest, she’d hardly managed to sleep at all. Eventually she’d driven back at four in the morning to find the rest of them there too, Owen dozing on the sofa, Gwen half dropping off in her chair in the morgue beside Jack, Ianto with his head down on his desk in the archives; Tosh hadn’t had the heart to check whether he was really sleeping or simply lying there wishing that it was over, that it was different.

And then, a miracle: she’d seen Gwen kiss Jack’s cold lips on the CCTV and thought at first she’d finally given up. But then he was there again, alive and real, and she’d run to him, throwing her arms around him in a hug.

In the present moment she watched the others walk off across the Plass, dropping a little further behind; whatever happened now, Tosh thought, things would be better. Surely Owen’s heart would finally start to heal after Diane, now that the Rift had given him some final closure. Gwen would hopefully be able to be happier now, to find some peace and balance after realising how precious her normal life with Rhys really was, a life like none of the rest of them would ever be able to have. And clearly something had changed for Ianto; the way he’d walked into Jack’s arms, the way Jack had kissed him, told her there was more there than any of them had realised, when they’d gossiped and speculated about Ianto’s _thing_ with Jack in their down time. She was happy for him, as long as Jack didn’t hurt him that was; Ianto deserved to be loved as much as he’d clearly loved Lisa, and happiness would suit him. And Jack… Tosh frowned; though Jack was one of the most important people in the world to her, she had no real idea what this would change for him.

Because love _did_ change people, she had come to know; caring for others and letting yourself be cared for made you grow together, one way or another.

She was lost in thought, nursing her half-cooled coffee when Owen turned back and yelled across the Plass, interrupting her thoughts. “Oi, Tosh! Staying out here, are you?”

“...I thought I might for a bit, yeah” she said; she was enjoying the feeling of the sun on her skin, the wind in her hair after so long in the Hub. “Fresh air.”

“Okay!” yelled Owen. “But it’s on you if Jack eats all the donuts before you can get any!”

“Save me one!” laughed Tosh, turning back to lean against the railing, looking up into the windy sky and watching the whisps of cloud scud across the sun.

It was then that she heard it.

A strange, groaning, whirring sound. It set off something in her, running up the back of her neck like a chill. A wind was rising too, eddying around her.

Tosh turned around, slowly, and saw something that definitely hadn’t been there before, standing in the middle of the Plass in broad daylight; a blue police box, where there had definitely been nothing a moment ago.

She knew that box, was the thing. She remembered Torchwood briefing material she’d read when she joined, not to mention the research that she’d done after Jack had questioned her to the point of interrogation after she’d returned from London, after the space pig case. The intensity with which Jack had asked her about meeting the Doctor would almost have frightened her, if she hadn’t been able to recognise the clear and aching longing in his eyes. She’d even seen the CCTV footage of this same box standing in almost the exact same location before, a couple of years ago; not that she’d been able to go out and take a closer look, with the way Jack had locked down the Hub, weathering the Rift storm below ground. Now that she’d time-traveled with Jack herself, Tosh had a few guesses as to why.

But for all that, she’d never seen the box quite so close up before. She stared for a second, wondering what she should do; she should call Jack, is what she should do. And she was just about to, her hand halfway to her earpiece, when the door of the box opened.

And the thought vanished entirely as out stepped the most beautiful woman Tosh had ever seen in her life.

She looked around for a brief moment, apparently amused by something. “Oh, it really is Cardiff!” she said, with a laugh. It was then that she caught sight of Tosh, and gave her a smile. “Oh, hello” she said, darting a quick glance back at the open door of the police box. “Um, nothing to see here...”

“...Doctor?” ventured Tosh, remembering something she’d read in a file once, about the Doctor changing their face.

The woman stopped short and blinked at her. “...Martha Jones” she said. “Soon-to-be doctor, once I pass my exams...” she frowned slightly. “I’m on a study break.” She must have seen something in Tosh’s expression. “Sorry. If you want the Doctor he’s in–” she paused, eyes fixing on something over Tosh’s shoulder. “Hey, what’s that man doing?”

Tosh tore her eyes away from Martha with some effort, following her gaze to see–

“...Jack?” Tosh frowned, watching him run across the Plass towards them. He was wearing one of the big equipment rucksacks that they usually took on missions, running full tilt across the pavement with what looked like significant desperation. She pulled the PDA out of her pocket. “But I didn’t get a Rift alert since–”

“Martha! Get back inside, we need to go!”

The urgent voice from behind her brought Tosh abruptly back into the moment; when she turned back she saw a man at the door of the police box, dressed in a brown pinstriped suit and with an extremely worried look on his face as he stared over at Jack. “Martha! We’re leaving, _now_.”

Martha frowned at him. “Hang on, Doctor” she said, turning back to Tosh, indicating Jack. “Who is that? Do you know him, or–”

At that moment, several things happened all at once.

The first was that the Doctor reached for Martha’s sleeve, dragging her back towards the door. Clearly caught by surprise by this, Martha reached out with her hand to keep her balance.

And Tosh, before she could think with anything more than a split second of instinct, grabbed her hand and was pulled along with her. This had the effect of dragging them all down, sending all three sprawling in a painful heap just inside the still-open police box door.

Before Tosh could do anything more than try to get her bearings and extricate herself from Martha, the Doctor has sprung to his feet and bounded past them to the door, slamming and bolting it.

“But… but that was Jack!” said Tosh, even more puzzled by this than she had been before. “It’s okay, he’s my friend! And what is this place any– _whoa_.”

She stared, wide-eyed, at the Doctor standing in front of some sort of console in the centre of the space. A space far larger than it had any right to be, given the size of the outside.

Martha helped her up. “Okay, first thing is, try not to freak out too much–”

“I’m trying” said Tosh breathlessly, leaning against Martha. She stared upwards, at the machine in the central column that was starting to whir and glow. “It’s–”

“Bigger on the inside, yes indeed” said the Doctor, throwing a lever and bounding around the other side of the console to meet them; there was a sense of manic urgency to his motions, and he kept darting glances at the closed doors. “Feel free to have an existential crisis later, but–”

“Oh no, it’s not that. I’ve seen spatial compression before” scoffed Tosh, stepping forward in fascination. “But the rest of this technology… it reminds me of the Rift manipulator, but compact, and the interface… what language is this?”

“It’s–”

But before he could get any further the whole space shuddered violently, nearly knocking Tosh off her feet; instead she fell against Martha, the two of them grabbing for each other to keep their balance as the shaking carried on. Sparks flew from the console and Tosh felt a flash of horror as she was reminded of how the whole Hub had shaken when the Rift opened; this felt similar.

Martha had let her go and was running around the console to look over the Doctor’s shoulder where he was desperately trying to control the machine.

“What’s that?” gasped Martha, glancing between Tosh and the Doctor.

“We're accelerating into the future. The year one billion. ….Five billion. ...Five trillion. Fifty trillion?” the Doctor was frowning, looking utterly at a loss, and a little disturbed; Tosh knew the feeling. “ _What?_ The year one hundred trillion? That's impossible.”

Martha’s eyes met Tosh’s, before looking back at the Doctor. “Why, what happens then?”

“We’re going to the end of the universe.”

Well, thought Tosh. Maybe she wouldn’t make it back in time for lunch.


	2. Chapter 2

“Well, we’ve landed” said the Doctor.

Martha frowned. “So what’s out there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m going to have a look” said Tosh, biting back her fear. She didn’t understand what the Doctor meant by the end of the universe – how could it be the _end_ , if people and time and places could exist there at all? – but she didn’t have any better idea of what to expect when she stepped out the doors. They could be anywhere, any _when_ , and she felt awfully small and exposed; even more so this time, without Jack’s familiar presence at her side. Still, she forced herself to walk to the door, and neither of them made a move to stop her, which she tried to take as an encouraging sign.

She undid the catch and opened the door. Then she stopped in her tracks, drawing in a sharp breath of chilly air as she stared at the dark sky, the rocky landscape all around. She knew, academically, about the Doctor and his time-traveling machine, of course she did. She’d read the files. But seeing it in real life was an entirely different matter. “Where… _when_ where are we?” she managed to choke out.

“The Doctor says we’re at the end of the universe” said Martha gently, appearing at Tosh’s shoulder.

Tosh’s heart squeezed in her chest; her recent experience with time travel left her unwilling to repeat the experience, and that had only been the nineteen-forties; a blink of an eye in temporal terms, perhaps. She stared up at the sky, disturbed to see the dearth of stars above her.

“What does that mean?” said Tosh, turning around to face Martha with wide eyes. But as she turned her head her eyes locked on a shape lying flat on the ground not far off.

A human figure, and a very familiar one at that.

“Jack!” exclaimed Tosh, running forward and falling to her knees beside him. Despite what she now knew about Jack – he could survive anything, even a bullet to the brain, even three days lying dead on a slab – the sight of him so still cut at her heart.

“Wait, you know him?” gasped Martha, coming to Jack’s side too. Tosh watched, as she pressed her fingers to Jack’s pulse point.

“I work for him. And he’s… a friend” said Tosh nervously, forcing herself to think about how Jack had lain dead before, how he’d come back. And before that, when Owen had shot him… he’d come back from that too. Gwen said he’d told her he couldn’t die; she had to cling to that, she knew. But it was hard, seeing Jack so still.

“Can't get a pulse” said Martha. “Hold on. We've got that medical kit thing...” and she rushed off, back through the open doors.

By this time, the Doctor had come to lean over Tosh’s shoulder, peering down at Jack as though with mild curiosity. “Must have been clinging to the outside of the Tardis all the way through the vortex. Well, that's very him.”

Tosh stared up at him, about to ask a question, to ask for some reassurance. But before she could form the words she needed, Martha was back, dropping to her knees at Jack’s side. “You both know him?” she said incredulously, pressing a stethoscope to Jack’s chest. She frowned. “I’m sorry, but there’s no heartbeat. There’s nothing. He’s dead.”

“No” said Tosh. “He can’t be dead, he’s–”

But at that moment Martha screamed, and Tosh flinched as Jack’s body moved, sucking in a huge gasping breath as he spasmed back to life. “Tosh!” he gasped, as she came into his line of vision first, clutching at her hands hard enough to bruise. “Tosh… oh God, you’re not supposed to be here…”

“Thanks” she muttered, but it was lost under Jack’s gasping breaths, and Martha’s voice speaking from beside her.

“Oh, so much for me!” exclaimed Martha, reaching for Jack to hold him steady. “It’s all right. Just breathe deep. I’ve got you.”

Tosh saw Jack’s mouth curve into a smile. “Captain Jack Harkness, and _who_ are you?”

“Martha Jones.”

“Nice to meet you, Martha Jones.”

Tosh sighed. “Jack!” she said, but she clasped his hand close, relieved beyond words to see him breathing again. “ _Not_ the time!”

“I agree” said the Doctor.

Jack frowned. “I was only saying hello!”

“I don’t mind” said Martha.

“Never mind that now.” Tosh pressed her lips together, turning on the Doctor. “Take us back to Cardiff right this minute!”

“Wait, wait, not so fast!” said Jack, pushing Tosh gently to the side and getting to his feet. He raised his head, meeting the Doctor’s gaze head-on. “Doctor.”

The Doctor’s face was impassive as he held Jack’s gaze, some communication running between them that Tosh didn’t understand, but felt suddenly fraught with tension. “Captain.”

Tosh met Martha’s eye, only to see a look as confused as she felt.

“Good to see you” said Jack.

“And you. Same as ever… although, have you had work done?”

Jack glared at him. “You can talk!”

“...Oh yes, the face!” exclaimed the Doctor. “Regeneration… how did you know this was me?”

“The police box kinda gives it away” said Jack, echoing what Tosh was thinking. Her thoughts were interrupted by Jack’s voice again, though. “I’ve been following you for a long time. You abandoned me.”

Tosh sucked in a breath at this, frowning; she hadn’t known Jack knew the Doctor, let alone–

“Did I?” said the Doctor nonchalantly. “Busy life. Moving on.”

“ _Jack_ –” Tosh began, stepping forward to take hold of his sleeve as she watched him rearrange his expression into something stoic, brittle.

But he shook her off, abrupt. “Just gotta ask” said Jack. “The battle of Canary Wharf. I saw the list of the dead. ...It said Rose Tyler.”

Tosh winced, thinking of Ianto and Lisa, of and blood and metal and a horrible night in the Hub a few months ago. The way Jack had reacted. She’d even gone to London with Jack and Owen and Suzie to pick through the ruins right after it happened; she should have realised that Jack had lost someone there too. It stood to reason after all, but it had never occurred to her.

“Oh, no, sorry... she’s alive!”

She saw Jack’s face light up in a brilliant smile. “You’re kidding!”

The Doctor beamed too. “Parallel world, safe and sound. And Mickey, and her mother!”

“Oh, _yes!_ ”

And with that Jack threw his arms around the Doctor in a huge hug, which only served to confuse Tosh more; her eyes met Martha’s beyond them. “Good old Rose” Martha muttered, with a sigh. And suddenly, Tosh recognised that expression, or at least something of it. She met Martha’s eyes, giving her a smile.

Martha smiled back, and the sight alone made Tosh feel just a little better about everything.

Not _that_ much better, though. As Jack and the Doctor broke apart, she cleared her throat, stepping forwards beside Jack. “Um, not to interrupt this” she said. “But… what are we doing here? And why did you kidnap us?”

“I didn’t–” began the Doctor.

“Actually, Doctor, you _did_ kind of kidnap Tosh” said Jack, frowning and putting a protective arm around her. “Now, before we do anything else, I want you to take her home to Cardiff, and–”

“ _Us_ ” interrupted Tosh, feeling a slight sense of foreboding. “You mean take _us_ home to Cardiff.”

But even as Jack looked back at her, she realised the truth. “No!” she said. “Jack! We need to go back!”

“Tosh, I’ve been waiting for this for a long time” he said gently. “I never meant to stay in Cardiff as long as I did. This was always going to happen at some point.”

“What?” she demanded, frowning. “You leaving us?”

“It’s okay, you don’t need to worry about UNIT coming for you” said Jack hastily. “I fixed everything with your case, so that if – _when_ – I had to leave–”

“You knew this was going to happen?” interrupted Tosh, shocked. “But… but wait. You’re planning on going back at some point... aren’t you?”

“Tosh” said Jack, with an infuriatingly gentle smile. “This was always what I was waiting for. It’s why I based myself in Cardiff in the first place… I knew it would be the twenty-first century, but I didn’t know how long...”

“ _What?!?_ ” she couldn’t do anything but stare back at him, suddenly a different man than the one she’d come to rely on, to know… at least, she thought she’d known him. “So, wait. You’re staying with the Doctor?”

Jack looked up, exchanging another meaningful look with the Doctor. He looked oddly vulnerable, more so than she’d ever seen him before. There was a short, fraught silence as Jack hesitated, broken by the Doctor clearing his throat, brows knitting. “Jack, I’m sorry, but... you’re wrong” he said. “That’s why I left you behind.”

“What do you mean by that?” demanded Tosh. “Jack’s not wrong! He’s… he’s _Jack_ , that’s all!”

“He’s a fixed point in time and space” said the Doctor, turning his gaze on her. “He’s a fact, and that’s never meant to happen. Even the Tardis reacted against him, tried to shake him off. Flew all the way to the universe just to get rid of him.”

She looked back at Jack, who was staring at the Doctor with that look in his eye again, and at Martha who was watching them all very carefully, and then back at the Doctor again, hard-eyed and impassive.

But something else had occurred to Tosh. “ _Can_ we go back?” she said, voice pitching up; she didn’t care right now that she sounded terrified, she’d had enough of being forcibly pulled out of her own time recently to last a lifetime.

“Yeah! Of course you can!” reassured Martha, holding up her hands in a placating sort of way. “It’s a time machine, the Doctor can take you home whenever you want.” She grinned. “But usually it’s fun to stay and look around a bit first.”

“I agree” said Jack, fixing the Doctor with a hard look. “Doctor?”

“ _Jack!_ ” exclaimed Tosh before the Doctor could answer, giving up trying to hold back, her patience replaced by fear now. “We have to go back!”

He turned and took her hands. “Please, Tosh… I promise, I’ll make sure you can go home when–”

“I don’t mean me! I mean you, too! You don’t know what it was like for us… you were dead for _three days_ , Jack. We all gave up hope, except for Gwen who just _sat_ there, and even that was hard to watch; if you’d really been dead who knows how long she would have waited by your body. But it was killing her, we could all tell. It was killing the rest of us too, the waiting! Owen blamed himself, he just shut down and wouldn’t talk to anyone and we could all see how much he was hurting, but he kept lashing out at me when I tried to speak to him. Ianto doesn’t know I know, and you _won’t_ tell him I told you, but I saw him break down crying in your office a few times, then deleting the CCTV afterwards. And I...” Tosh shook her head, pausing to suck in a breath. “I kept thinking I couldn’t do this without you, Jack. But what else could I do? You saved me, you gave me a new life. Hell, Torchwood _is_ my life, and without you...” she shuddered. “Look, the point is I just… wouldn’t want to be left behind. And the others… you owe them better than that, that’s all.”

He stared at her for a moment, rather taken aback by this outburst; behind him, she could see the Doctor and Martha watching them with wide-eyed, wary expressions, exchanging a look.

“You two work for _Torchwood_?” she heard the Doctor say, with a slight frown of disapproval, before Martha elbowed him pointedly in the ribs and they both went silent.

But Tosh was only peripherally aware of this; she was concentrating on Jack, willing him to see, to understand.

“Tosh...” said Jack, eyes wide and reassuring. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you felt like that. All of you.”

“Well, what do you think we felt like!” she said, but already her anger was fading, replaced by sorrow, and fear. Perhaps that was what it had been all along. She sighed. “Jack...”

He opened his arms, knowing what she wanted; she threw herself into them gratefully, feeling him press a reassuring kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll get you home” said Jack. “I promise, I will.”

“Thanks” she muttered into the lapel of his coat.

But before another moment had passed they heard a terrified shout behind them, and a moment later, the sound of many voices, raised in a blood-curdling war cry. She pulled back from Jack in alarm, hand going for her gun even as his did.

“What is that?!” said Martha. They all looked around. As they did, they saw a man bolt past along the rough track a few levels down in the pitted, hollowed out landscape. Clearly running for his life. Tosh’s eyes widened, her gaze meeting Jack’s as they saw what was following him: a rabble of people wielding weapons and screaming, yells filled with bloodlust.

“...Is it just me, or does that look like a _hunt?_ ” said the Doctor. “...Come on!”

And then, they were off running.


	3. Chapter 3

In the event, Tosh found this time as fascinating as it was terrifying.

Right now she was on her knees with a screwdriver, tinkering with the open back panel of one of Yana’s machines; it really was amazing, not exactly like any engineering she’d seen before, and she thought that if circumstances had been different she’d have liked to spend weeks taking it apart and figuring out how it worked.

Circumstances being different, in this case, of course meant safe in the Hub with her friends all around her, Owen’s music playing off in the distance and a cup of Ianto’s coffee at her elbow, and nothing quite as pressing as getting a ship full of refugees to safety to redirect her attention.

“Enjoying yourself?” came a voice from above and to the side of her; Tosh twitched, nearly upsetting the panel, jogging it so the screw she’d been undoing rattled to the floor and started to roll under the table. Before she could get it though, Martha had swiftly knelt down and grabbed it, sweeping it up and holding it out to Tosh.

Tosh took it, looking up to meet Martha’s gaze. “Yeah, a little” she admitted with a slight smile.

Martha smiled too, folding her hands on her lap. “I just wanted to say” she said. “What you said back there...”

Tosh blinked. “What?”

“Um” said Martha. “Nothing. Never mind, actually.”

“No, please tell me?” said Tosh. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No! No, just… the way you were with Jack. And the Doctor, actually.” She said; she was frowning down at her hands in an odd way. “Made me think about things, that’s all.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Martha looked up at her, a conspiratorial smile reappearing on her face. “So...” she said, darting a glance at Tosh. “Are you and Jack…?”

“Are we…?” Tosh blinked, realising her meaning a moment later and blushing in alarm. “Oh! Oh, no absolutely not! I mean, not that Jack isn’t… and he’s my boss, and one of my best friends, and anyway, Jack’s got Ianto… he’s another person we work with, and… and there’s someone else I… I mean, not that that matters now, probably… I mean, what I’m trying to say is...” Tosh released her breath, realising she’d been boring a hole in Martha with her gaze. “I’m single! Very much so” she managed, with the very last of the breath in her lungs.

Martha was smiling at this painfully awkward pronouncement; Tosh cringed slightly. “I see” said Martha.

“...Why?” said Tosh hastily, trying to move the conversation on. “Are… are you and the Doctor…?”

“What? Oh… _no_ ” said Martha, rolling her eyes and sighing. “I mean, not that I didn’t want to, you know… the way he is. But I’m resigned to the fact that he doesn’t see me, really.” She frowned. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m invisible.”

“You’re not invisible!” said Tosh, far too quickly. She blushed, as Martha’s big dark eyes flicked up from contemplating the floor to meet hers. “I mean, uh. I know that hurts, and I’m sorry. I have… _had?_ ...a similar situation, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm” said Tosh, frowning. “Owen. Also works for Torchwood, with me and Jack and Ianto and Gwen.”

“Owen” said Martha, as though trying out the sounds of the name. “So, you do the tech and computers and stuff, Jack’s the boss... what does this Owen do?”

“Oh, he’s a doctor” said Tosh. “Like you!”

“...Yeah?” said Martha, looking intrigued.

“Oh, God” said Tosh. “It’s going to sound like I have a _thing_ for... I mean, not that I feel the same about… I mean, not that you’re _not_ … um.” she felt her face heat, as Martha looked at her with puzzled amusement. “Um, sorry. Best if I shut up now.”

“No!” said Martha quickly. “No, please don’t.”

Tosh looked up at her, startled by something in her tone. Their eyes met for a moment, before Jack’s voice came from behind her, barking her name. “Tosh? Can you come and take a look at these divertor loops? Something’s up with the circuit, but I can’t figure it out.”

She smiled, apologetically. “Sorry. Duty calls.”

Martha laughed. “Go on then. Someone’s got to be the brains of this operation.”

Tosh found herself beaming as she turned away.

* * *

The radiation chamber’s glow was red, so bright even through the shielded glass that she had to squint as she peered nervously over the Doctor’s shoulder at Jack.

“Is he okay?” she said, wincing in sympathy as Jack grimaced in pain, hands straining on the handle.

“He will be” said the Doctor.

She saw Jack blow out his breath in obvious pain, thinking uncomfortably about what they’d been told earlier; a man had burned away to nothing inside his radiation suit doing this. Even if this couldn’t kill Jack, it couldn’t be pleasant, and Jack’s grimace did nothing to persuade her otherwise.

“Let him out of there!” demanded Tosh. “Can’t you see it’s hurting him?”

“He can’t die” the Doctor told her, voice infuriatingly steady and placid. “He’ll be alright.”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t feel pain!” shot back Tosh, standing on her tiptoes to peer in the window. “Jack, are you okay?”

“Gonna be… _fine_ ” he gritted out, wrenching up another of the handles. His teeth were gritted and it _could_ have been just the effort, Tosh knew, but also… Tosh had seen Jack in pain before, and she’d seen him try to hide it, and knew his tells. Besides, the chamber was flooded with deadly radiation so it couldn’t be comfortable regardless.

She turned back to the Doctor. “Why would you send him in there?”

“I asked him. He agreed” said the Doctor, a slight frown appearing on his face.

“Of course he agreed, Jack would do anything for you!”

The Doctor turned and blinked at her, just as Jack pressed down the final handle. "You care a lot about him, don't you?"

She maintained eye contact. "Yes. Yes I do."

* * *

Jack was out of the chamber, putting his shirt back on – Tosh still wasn’t entirely clear on why he’d taken it off in the first place, but maybe that was just Jack – when Martha ran around the corner. “Doctor, it’s the Professor” she said, wide-eyed and a little out of breath. “He’s got this watch. He’s got a fob watch. It’s the same as yours. Same writing on it, same _everything_.”

The Doctor stared back at her, clearly alarmed. “Don’t be ridiculous” he said, but something about the way his manner changed set off alarm bells at the back of Tosh’s mind.

* * *

Martha, as it turned out, had been right about the watch.

And now they were in Martha’s kitchen as the Doctor fiddled with the TV remote and Jack made them all cups of tea. After everything that happened, Tosh found herself thinking, the normality of this was a little surreal; they’d just come from the end of the universe – and it had been a very bumpy ride, vortex manipulators being really not designed to carry four in any manner of comfort – and now they were standing in a normal London flat, in a short lull, about to discuss plans to avert a hostile alien incursion over mugs of tea.

...So really not that dissimilar from usual, Tosh thought. She had almost got used to this kind of in-between moment, these last years working with Torchwood; it made her miss the Hub, the echoing space of the ceiling with the sound of Myfanwy fussing high above, the hiss and clank of the coffee machine and the rattle of crockery as Ianto brought them their drinks. Jack’s footsteps on the metal grilles, bounding down to peer over her shoulder at what she was doing, his proud smile when she made a breakthrough. Gwen rolling over on her chair to ask Tosh questions, or just to chat sometimes. Owen pottering around the medbay, all the clutter he left around that she now found herself missing.

She and Jack could go home soon, she thought. They were just in London; maybe Tosh could even stop and visit her family on the way. She could use the reassurance, after her second, and much most far-flung, impromptu trip through time in the last week.

But not right now; now, she was standing in the hallway opposite Martha, awkwardly leaning against the wall as the silence stretched between them.

“So” said Martha. “Harold Saxon is the Master...” she laughed nervously, her fear showing through. “I mean, I always did suspect some politicians were aliens in disguise, but...”

Tosh grinned. “You’d be surprised, it’s actually quite a few of them.”

“…I feel like nothing should surprise me anymore” said Martha wearily, folding her arms and leaning back against the wall. “Though, the way you and Jack talk, it sounds like you do this all the time. You must be used to handling stuff like this.”

“Not on this scale” said Tosh. “And normally we’d have the rest of our team with us...”

“Still” said Martha. “You’ve got that look about you. Like the Doctor has.” Tosh raised her eyes at this, staring at Martha. “Like you’re used to fixing things.”

Tosh laughed a little at this. “I suppose I _do_ do quite a lot of that, yeah.”

They stared at each other for another long, stretched out moment, before the spell was broken by the Doctor’s voice from the living room, calling out to the flat as a whole.

“Hey, you lot. Come and look at this!”

* * *

Going on the run, Tosh thought, was something she never wanted to do again. The explosion in Martha’s flat had been bad enough, but today had been one of the worst days of her life; getting shot at as Martha drove them away from the agents holding Martha’s family, the terror as bullets flew and she and Jack tried their best to return fire from the back seat. The heart-clenching dread as she realised that they’d have to throw their phones away, to keep them from being tracked; there went their last simple means of getting in contact with the rest of the team, she thought. She badly wanted to check on her family too, but she forced herself to concentrate on the world, knowing that contacting them would just endanger them too. At least with the stolen laptop, hunched over in a cold warehouse, she was able to log in to an encrypted Torchwood server and find the message sent by a dead woman, telling them what they needed to know to confirm their worst fears.

And now they were running again, slipping away like ghosts under the cover of a perception filter; she clutched the cold metal of her Tardis key in one hand, the bumps and grooves of it biting into her palm as the four of them walked through the rain.

* * *

And then, they were on the Valiant.

And then, everything changed, the world going to hell faster than Tosh had ever thought possible.

* * *

Tosh stood at Martha’s side, hand on her shoulder as she leaned protectively over the Doctor’s hunched, aged form; the Master still stood between her and Jack, _maybe if she could get to him, then they could_ …

But her train of thought was broken off again as the Master grinned, too wide. “…But tonight, Martha Jones, Toshiko Sato” he was saying. “We’ve flown them in… all the way from prison...”

Tosh drew in a short, sharp breath, as four figures were shoved into the room, their hands bound, faces pained. There were three people she didn’t recognise, but could guess take a good guess about, from the way Martha was staring in horror; Tish, Francine, and Clive Jones. But Tosh wasn’t looking at them.

Because the fourth captive was her mother.

Tosh’s eyes widened, as her gaze met her mother’s, standing terrified in amongst Martha’s family. _No, no no no_ , she thought, _this couldn’t be happening, not again_ … she swallowed, reaching sideways almost instinctively for something to hold onto. At the same moment Martha reached out too, and their hands met in the middle, not quite intentionally on either part, a reflex born of fear. Still, they clutched onto each others’ fingers and watched, terrified, as their families were brought out before them. Jack was standing frozen too, rooted to the spot as his eyes ran over the captives. Tosh was aware there were tears running down her cheeks as she reached out to her mother, reminded forcefully of another time, another day when her life had changed forever.

Their eyes met, silent and shocked for a moment before Martha broke away to cry out to her family. Tosh stood still; she couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. The sight of the burly guards towering over her mother, holding her fast, terrified her. Tosh would have said something too, would have tried for reassurance but all the words had left her. Instead she tried to project her thoughts across the room, to let her know with a look that Tosh would do anything – whatever it took – to save her.

* * *

And in only a few short minutes, the sky had ripped open, the toclafane pouring through and descending on the earth below. Tosh’s eyes were wet with tears, dripping down onto Jack’s face where she’d run over to him, just in time for him to flinch back to life in her arms.

Jack’s wrist strap was in Tosh’s hands, his eyes meeting hers, then flicking over to where Martha was sitting close to the Doctor; he was whispering something in her ear, something that made Martha’s face harden and cloud, turning to meet Tosh’s eye. Suddenly, Tosh knew exactly what she intended. For a moment Tosh’s eyes flicked to Jack’s again, feeling lost and desperately at sea; if they were going to do this they’d have to leave him behind, and Tosh didn’t think she could do it without him. He gave her a very slight nod and a little, encouraging push away from him. Tosh found herself shaking her head, tears coming; she didn’t think she could leave Jack, she didn’t want to leave him to the man who had just _killed_ him, and...

...And it was no longer her decision to make as Martha crossed the short distance back to her and grabbed her hand, clutched it in hers, clasping both their palms down on the teleport. Once again it was like they were spiraling through time and space, sending Tosh’s senses into freefall for an instant before they were collapsing in a heap onto grass, peering up at a sky that felt too open, too dangerous, different from the world they’d both known until now.

They just looked at each other for a long, frightened moment, hands still clinging together on the leather strap, hard enough to bruise.

“We’re coming back” Martha told Tosh, told the whole world and the sky at large, fiercely determined. Still clasping Tosh’s hand hard enough to bruise. “ _We’re coming back_.”

It was all Tosh could do to nod, and believe that she was right.


	4. Chapter 4

“We need to get to Cardiff” Tosh said, voice lowered as they sat under the deserted concrete bridge, out of the rain; despite the perception filters, despite being able to teleport away from danger if necessary, she was still wary, jumping at shadows. “If we can get to Torchwood, there’s equipment, weapons we could use. We can log into Mainframe again and monitor the situation better.”

“It’s risky” said Martha. “It’ll be the first place they’d expect you to go.”

“I know” said Tosh, frowning. “But it’s worth the risk. If we can just get hold of some decent weapons...” she saw Martha’s face twitch, “I know, I know, the Doctor wouldn’t want you to do things the Torchwood way. But we don’t have many options here.”

Martha frowned, staring down at her hands. “He told me to tell his story” she said. “Just that. No weapons, just words. I’m not a soldier, Tosh. I’m a doctor… at least I was going to be.” She bit back a sob. “I fix things. People. But I don’t know if I can fix this.”

“I know” Tosh said, laying her hand on Martha’s arm. She sighed, deciding to try a different tack. “Look, there’s one bright spot in all this. The Master very likely hasn’t got Owen, Gwen or Ianto yet. They’re still out there, somewhere.”

Martha frowned. “How do you know?”

“I don’t know for sure. But I think if he had, he would have brought them on the Valiant with our families, held them against me and Jack. And if they were dead, he would’ve gloated about it.” She frowned, biting her lip and forcing down her fear as best she could. “That means they’re probably still out there, on the run. If I can get to the Hub, then maybe I can contact them, or at least find some trace. Next to Jack, I trust those three to help us more than anyone else in the world.”

Martha looked up, met her eye. “Your team” she said. “You all care for each other very much, don’t you?”

Tosh smiled softly, feeling the bittersweet pull of love and worry in her chest. “Yes” she said. “We do.”

“Well, then” said Martha, pushing herself wearily to her feet and offering Tosh a hand up. “I suppose we better be on our way then.”

* * *

She was hopeful – almost – as they approached Cardiff, teleporting inside the barbed wire perimeter that had been erected around the city before darting unseen towards the bay on foot. Even if the others weren’t in the Hub, she thought – it had only been three days since the Master had said they were in the Himalayas, after all, and she hadn’t been able to contact them so she had to assume they were still there, still surviving, going under the radar – there would still be useful things they could find there, a safe haven until they could find somewhere better. And there was some part of Tosh that was thinking of putting the Hub into lockdown, of battening down the hatches and using the place that had been her own haven over the last few years as a bolthole; it was the safest place she knew, after all. The Hub was safe and always would be, come what may.

How very wrong she was, she thought as they saw the great, yawning crater in the ground, surrounded by yellow and black ticker tape and crawling with special agents in dark uniforms, patrolling the perimeter blockade with guns and guard dogs.

She was still thinking it as they ran hand in hand through the streets of Cardiff, dodging toclafane fire like a haze of sniper’s bullets, except it came from everywhere, following them from the sky.

Just as Tosh thought she was about to collapse from exhaustion, they managed to duck into a deserted alley for long enough for Martha to set the coordinates on the vortex manipulator, to grab her hand and teleport them away into an empty field under the eaves of a forest. Tosh didn’t ask where they were, because it didn’t matter; instead, she found herself immediately collapsing to her knees, plopping down to sit on the grass and starting to cry. Big, shuddering sobs rose from her chest as it slipped over her, the very aloneness of it all; she hadn’t realised how much she’d been hoping to see the familiar faces of her friends again, the people she’d come to rely on just as much as she relied on Jack.

She was still sobbing when she felt Martha’s arms come up around her, warm and grounding. Martha held her close, rocked her gently and whispered in her ear as they knelt awkwardly in the damp grass.

“Shh, shh” soothed Martha, and Tosh could hear the tremble in her voice, but she was grateful anyway. “You’re okay. You’re safe. We got away.”

“Owen… Gwen… Ianto...” she muttered between teary gasps.

“Like you said” said Martha. “The Master didn’t have them. So they’re probably still alive, still hiding. Or fighting.”

“That sounds like them, yeah” said Tosh, gathering herself a little, though her voice was still shaky and rough from crying. “You’re… you’re right. They’re probably too smart to just go home.” She laughed nervously.

“Maybe we’ll even meet up with them,” said Martha.

Tosh raised her eyes to meet Martha’s, still held in the warm circle of her arms. “You really mean to do this, do you? To… travel the whole world? To tell people what the Doctor told you?”

Martha looked into the sky, frowning. “I don’t know what else there is to do.”

“...Yeah” said Tosh. She gave a tense, teary little laugh. “Well. At least we’re together. ...You know, it’s good to have someone to watch your back.”

Martha smiled; a real, true smile, though the worry behind it was still clear. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

* * *

And so began a year; a year of traveling, of never staying in one place. Tosh never quite lost hope of finding the others again. But they never did.

(Later, when the world was back to the way it should be, she would ask Jack if he knew what happened to them and watched his face freeze like brittle glass for a long moment, before he too-hastily changed the subject. That had been all the answer she’d needed to confirm her worst fears. But like so many things, there was no sense dwelling on it. If she did, she thought she would not have survived long, even after it was over and time was healed again.)

Sometimes they’d stay with people for a few days, living in refugee camps and shanty towns, helping where they could even as they told the story of the Doctor. Tosh would try to fix their generator or their radio aerial as best she was able with limited resources to hand. Her days were mostly drudgery, blisters on her feet and her hands, the thick stench of diesel and haggling for spare transistors and scraps of tin lead solder. Meanwhile, Martha would see to anyone who needed medical attention, in exchange for a bed and a hot meal for the two of them.

They didn’t dare stay anywhere too long, though. And so most of the time, it was just the two of them, holding hands and clinging together in the bitter cold and running, always running. The endless repetitive cycle of it, close calls and harrowing sights, coming across frightened people huddled together all across the world. It was exhausting, draining the life and the optimism out of her.

Or it might have done, if not for Martha. Martha was the only constant in the whole world for her now. Sometimes they’d stop to steal a few hours’ sleep – usually in shifts, sometimes, in exceptional circumstances, at the same time, though even that felt like a reckless luxury.

And there were nights when no matter how dead tired they were, neither of them could sleep, the horrors that haunted their waking days keeping them awake and watchful.

It was nights like that they told each other their own stories. Clinging close together by a burning brazier in some freezing encampment or other, or out under the stars in a rare moment of peace, or walking or sitting in the back of a boarded-over van, limbs cramped with the stillness required for hiding, or aching and exhausted from having to run, to fight. Sometimes, they’d both join their hands together on Jack’s vortex manipulator on Martha’s wrist, fingers entwining on the soft, worn leather. A reminder both of the things they shared, the weight of responsibility they carried – somehow, between the two of them, they had to be Torchwood and Jack and the Doctor, a heavy burden for them to carry even together – as well as a reminder that they had an escape, a way out if they needed it.

They tried to use it only in emergencies these days; Tosh knew it had failed Jack before, and one failed attempt to escape from the toclafane could cost both their lives, and with them what might be the world’s last hope.

But it was always with them, a comforting constant in their lives, along with each other, on the nights that sleep eluded them.

They’d talk to each other in soft voices then, sharing between them the one thing they had left; the one thing that actually meant something in this changed, ruined world, and that was their stories. Stories would save the world; that was what they were betting on at least, though it was a slim hope at the best of times. But stories would also save them, if anything would. Little pieces of their happier times, exchanged when one of them needed solace, or accounts of times when the world had been cruel, when they needed to excise the pain of it, helping each other to bear the weight.

Martha told Tosh about the first time she’d met the Doctor, half-suffocating in a hospital on the Moon and how her life had changed so completely afterwards. The time the Doctor had lost his memories and left her to her own devices, too alone and scared in a world that hated her. Tosh told Martha about the time that she and Jack had been pulled through the Rift, her real fear that they’d never get home. She told her about Lisa, gore and metal and the red lights of a lockdown, Ianto sobbing in a pool of blood. She told her about the Beacons and the cannibals that had captured her, and about Mary and how it felt like Tosh’s heart was being ripped from her chest when Jack had killed her. She spoke about the faeries, and Abaddon, and things older than the world itself. She talked about before that, the first time her mother had been held against her, about how UNIT had held her without charge and how Jack had, in every possible way, saved her life.

Martha had stared at her, when Tosh had told her that story; she’d stared and stared and Tosh thought for a moment that she’d done something wrong, before Martha leaned in and enfolded her in a firm hug. For a moment she was startled by it, going tense and stiff in Martha’s arms as her cheek pressed against the side of Tosh’s head. Martha was very warm, in the cold of a winter night at sea; they were travelling across the Atlantic on a fishing boat with some allies they’d found and it was very cold indeed, their breath puffing out in frigid clouds in the dim lights. Tosh found herself leaning into that hug, grateful for the warmth, especially after telling _that_ story.

Martha drew back from her, and when she did Tosh found a strange, unfamiliar expression on her face. But something about it had made Tosh’s skin warm, despite the cold of the air.

Afterwards, they went to sleep again curled up together for the first time, though neither had asked; they simply found it natural to curl up close, fingers entwining.

* * *

“ _Why does the sun go on shining?  
Why does the sea rush to shore?  
Don't they know it's the end of the world?  
'Cause you don't love me any more…”_

“Little depressing, isn’t it?” said Martha with a frown, surveying the underground mess hall and taking a sip of her drink as they leaned against the wall. She grimaced, staring into the bottom of her glass and the tossed back the rest. “Little bit on the nose, too.”

“ _Why do the birds go on singing?  
Why do the stars glow above?  
Don't they know it's the end of the world?  
It ended when I lost your love...”_

“I think it’s supposed to be a joke” said Tosh. “The kind of irony they need right now.”

“Black humour as a coping mechanism” nodded Martha, sighing and putting down her glass. “Still.”

“I think some people… need that” she said. “They need to have a chance to be _sad_ about this. Seeing as everyone’s lost so much. These people all had _lives_ , before. Now this is all there is.” Suddenly she remembered a time, right after she’d lost Mary, when she’d been hurting so much she thought her chest would break open. She remembered Ianto had come and sat with her then, quietly brought her coffee and let her cry herself dry, offering no judgement or advice, but only the company and the silent acknowledgement of her grief; _this was real, this hurt._ The unspoken implication: _but it won’t hurt forever_. It had helped, more than she’d ever expected it to. But then, she supposed, Ianto would have known that. She just hoped he was alright, wherever he was; he hoped they were all alright.

“I guess not everyone has the hope we do” said Martha, narrowing her eyes slightly. Tosh supposed she was thinking of the Doctor, of the mission he’d given her, which was at times the only thing that had kept either of them going this long; it had been five months now, and it was really starting to wear on both of them.

Tosh took a sip from her own glass, wincing at the taste of cheap paint-thinner vodka. But it was the best you could get these days, especially out here in the abandoned Cold War-era Soviet research station in Siberia, recently turned resistance encampment, where they’d been lying low, deep underground as a ferocious blizzard raged over the ruined landscape above. At least down here it was warm, lit by cosy burners and strings of electrical lights, rigged across what had one been a cafeteria, now doubling as a shared mess hall and common room. Except now it had been cleared for dancing. The bare bulbs looked a little like Christmas lights, Tosh fancied, which was in keeping with the weather outside if not the season itself. Maybe if you squinted, at least. Or maybe when you’d had enough of this awful stuff to drink. They barely ever drank, but there was very little else to do here; they’d had a close call before this and had decided to go underground, at least until the storm blew over.

On account of there being little to do, the woman who ran this place had organised something of a dance; there was a crackly cassette player in the corner, which was the source of Skeeter Davis’s tinny recorded voice sounding oddly in the low-ceilinged little room as couples milled about or slow-danced, here and there. As well as the radio, there was a man she’d been introduced to but whose name she couldn’t quite remember playing a tinny, out-of-tune harmonica. His partner was singing along to the tape, their voice quavering and slightly reedy, but sweet enough.

“ _Why does my heart go on beating?  
Why do these eyes of mine cry?  
Don't they know it's the end of the world?  
It ended when you said goodbye...”_

Tosh sighed; it was a little depressing, Martha was right. “I miss them” she admitted quietly.

Martha turned to look at her. “Your team? Or your family?”

“Both.” She sighed, passing a hand over her face. “Sometimes, I think there’s no way we can do this” she admitted, not meeting Martha’s eye. “But nobody else is going to, so...”

“So it has to be us” said Martha, with a sigh. “Yeah.”

“I’ve always believed the human race is worth saving” she said. “All that time at Torchwood, I always thought… that one day I might give my life for that. And that would be okay, you know? That would be worth it.” She gave a soft laugh, as Martha turned to look at her. “I just never thought it would be like _this_. Never thought it would be quite so… lonely.”

“I know” said Martha, looking at her with an odd expression on her face. Slowly, she reached out and took Tosh’s empty glass and put it on the side with her own, keeping hold of Tosh’s hand; Tosh found herself staring back into Martha’s eyes, unable to look away if she tried. “But you’re not alone, though. You’ve got me. You know that, don’t you?”

Tosh smiled, feeling herself blush under the scrutiny; maybe Martha would mistake it for the effect of cheap vodka, she thought. “I know” she said, squeezing Martha’s hands back. “Martha, I...” she broke off, as the song changed, the tape crackling as the first swelling notes of _You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me_ wobbled out through the room.

“What?” said Martha, and Tosh realised she was still waiting for her to finish her sentence.

She hesitated. Then smiled, holding up their hands between them. “Do you want to dance? This one’s less depressing. ...A little bit, at least.”

Martha smiled too, in a way that made Tosh’s heart ache. “I’d love to.”

They slow danced for a while, as Dusty Springfield’s voice filled the room, unaccompanied this time; the two musicians had apparently taken a break to dance too, held close in each other’s arms.

“ _You don't have to say you love me,  
Just be close at hand,  
You don't have to stay forever,  
I will understand_...”

“You know” said Tosh after a while, “people are like this everywhere. Even when things are their very worst, there’s always music, always dancing. Maybe even more so.” She thought about hiding in an air raid shelter with Jack and everyone from the dance hall, the voice of the singer ringing out in the small space as Tosh had tried desperately to save them, wondering if she’d make it through the night.

“It’s not just humans, on Earth” said Martha softly, interrupting her reminiscence. “Everywhere I’ve been in the universe, with the Doctor, everyone is just like this.” They were close together now, their faces inches apart, the hanging lines of lamps sparkling like stars above. “Maybe it’s common to all life, needing something to get you through the hard times. Or… someone. When things hurt, when it’s dangerous, you can’t do it alone.”

Tosh tilted her head back, very aware suddenly of Martha’s hand at the base of her spine, their faces close enough to easily close the distance between them; she brought her hand a little further up the warm curve of Martha’s shoulder and couldn’t quite keep her gaze from slipping to her lips. “We’re not alone” she reminded her, raising her head a bit. “We’ve got each other.”

“I–”

But at that moment, the alert siren started to blare, emergency lights flashing in the underground hall. They sprang apart, both on alert again, as shouts started to ring out.

“Toclafane sighted on the radar!”

“The base has been breached! Everyone to positions for evacuation!”

“Snow gear is in the storage locker! Prioritise children under ten, the elderly, and vulnerable adults!”

“Where are Martha and Toshiko? We need to get them to safety! Quick, quick, quick, people!”

The two of them stared at each other for a long, tense moment, a deep unspoken longing burning through their shared gazes as the sirens blared, everyone moving very fast all around them. There was no time for whatever had been about to happen now, Tosh knew, as she felt for her gun which she hadn’t taken off through this, already heading across the room for their packs and cold-weather jackets.

First and foremost, they had to save the world; it was their duty, after all, and they were very far from finished yet.

* * *

It had been just over six months, and today had been their worst day yet. They were on a small fishing boat off the coast of Japan, under a pastel-washed sunset on a calm sea. The peace of it was jarring, incongruous with the horror they’d just witnessed, the pain making Tosh gasp as she let Martha clean her burns; relatively minor, but only by the same sheer dumb luck that had got them away in time.

Both their backs turned to the horizon, away from that cloud of smoke hanging low over the sea, blotting out the sun as it dipped towards the line where the sky joined the sea.

Tosh hadn’t thought that it was possible to burn a whole country all at once before. But this year had taught her, if anything, that there were more horrors that were possible for her to imagine.

Her thoughts were scattered as Martha treated her wounds, and she was just about able to blame it on her wounds, the adrenaline still coursing through her, the sharp spikes of pain as Martha cleaned the burns on her leg and on her palms, before moving on to the multitude of small cuts and abrasions on both their bodies.

They didn’t talk; they didn’t need to, or perhaps they couldn’t, as the enormity of it washed over them, both of them still refusing to turn back and look at the great cloud of smoke on the horizon.

And all because of them, Tosh knew. They’d been careless, they’d let themselves get complacent, staying in one place for too long; Osaka had felt familiar to Tosh, she’d spent time there as a child and it still felt comforting, despite how the world had changed.

But then there had been the Valiant, descending from a clear sky, and the toclafane spewing fire down.

Tosh had only hoped that the Master hadn’t made her mother stand at the window and watch her home burning.

When Martha was finished cleaning and bandaging the wounds, she opened her arms. Tosh understood instantly, leaning into her embrace, and for the next hour or so, just let herself cry against Martha’s shoulder. Tosh didn’t think she had the tears in her to encompass the enormity of it, to fit around what they’d seen. But she cried anyway, until it got dark around them and the stars came out, partly hiding that great black plume in the velvet darkness between. At night, the smoke could almost be clouds, warning of stormy weather not made by any human or timelord.

But it wasn’t, Tosh knew. After a few hours her tears had dried up entirely, and to her own slight surprise she found herself falling asleep in Martha’s arms, rocked by her steady heartbeat and the very slight swell of the water.

She could only cling on to Martha and hope, as she always had to, that tomorrow would be better.


	5. Chapter 5

And sometimes, there _were_ better days.

About eight months in, they were camped in a cave in the cold, arid nighttime of the Atacama desert, a small fire crackling beside them and casting shadows on the curved walls that danced almost like living things. They’d been lying low here for a few days before attempting to cross the border into Argentina; they’d have to leave in the morning, before it was light. But for now they had shelter from the night-time chill, and they’d just finished eating – freeze-dried noodles with water boiled over their tiny camp stove felt like a feast, these days – and they were now whiling away an hour or so before it was time to sleep.

Martha could even see a little of the sky, if she edged around the corner to the cave’s entrance. On the very edge of her field of view was one of the ugly colossi, the statues of the Master that were ubiquitous across the whole planet, its silhouette cut out like a patch of void against the deepening blue of the night sky. But if Martha closed one eye, she could block it out, pretend it wasn’t there and that it was only the desert and the star-strewn velvet sky. The Milky Way arced above, bright and unspoiled by light pollution out here. That was one thing, Martha sometimes thought, one small joy that had been untouched by the Master and the toclafane. Whatever happened on Earth, whether they succeeded or failed, the stars would still be there.

Sometimes that was reassuring, at least a little.

“Martha?” came Tosh’s voice from inside the cave. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah” she said, turning back and returning down the tunnel, into the circle of firelight. “Sorry. Just looking at the stars.”

Tosh sighed, putting down the circuit she was tinkering with, setting it carefully beside where her various tool belts and holsters were laid out neatly on the cave floor, the disassembled components she’d been working with arrayed in meticulous order a little further off. Martha knew Tosh had been trying to fix their beaten-up little solar-powered radio with pieces she’d found, bolting on a bigger aerial to convert it into a jammer for the frequencies the toclafane used to communicate with each other. But it was proving difficult, as she was restricted to parts she’d stripped from other electronics, broken and thrown away things they’d picked from rubbish the last time they’d gone scavenging. Tosh hoarded electrical components like they were precious jewels, but twice as useful; all her pockets were full of them, like Martha’s were full of all the medical kit she could carry, sealed sterile dressings when she could get them, painkillers they’d stolen, little bottles of rubbing alcohol when she could get it – cheap whisky when she couldn’t – to clean their wounds as best she could.

Martha watched Tosh, head leaned down over her work by the firelight, glinting golden against the black of her hair. Martha had helped her cut her hair shorter a few months ago – easier that way while traveling, Tosh had said when she’d asked Martha to do it – but it was starting to grow out again, hanging over Tosh’s face just a little as she worked.

Suddenly Martha felt the affectionate urge to push back Tosh’s overgrown fringe, to see her eyes in the firelight even though they carried as much pain as her own did, from the things they’d seen.

Martha was _tired_ , was the thing; all she wanted was to forget it all, to lay down their burden for one day, one night, a few hours even. She suddenly felt the urge grip her harder than ever, to be allowed to just _be_.

“Martha?”

Tosh’s voice broke her out of her reverie, blinking and kneeling down beside her as Tosh carefully put aside the pieces of the radio, laying the aerial beside it.

“Sorry to interrupt” said Martha, kneeling down beside her on the dusty ground.

“It’s fine. I’ll finish fixing it tomorrow” said Tosh, rubbing her face wearily. “I’m about to fall asleep anyway.” The floor of the cave was cold, like everything else in the desert at night; Tosh shifted sideways to allow Martha space on their threadbare bedroll and Martha squeezed herself in beside her gratefully. The heat off the fire felt good against her face, warming her cold skin. But despite this, she turned away from it, looking at Tosh’s face in the firelight.

Tosh smiled at her, tilting her head slightly. “What?”

“...Nothing” said Martha. Something struck her like a blow to the chest then, something that, she suddenly realised, had been a long time coming. Her hands only shook a little as she reached out and took Tosh’s. As she did, Tosh blinked back at her, caught by surprise. “Just… when we first met, I said I was supposed to fix things. Well, people. But you’re better at fixing things than I ever was.”

“No I’m not” said Tosh. Clasping Martha’s hands back with an expression that sent a swoop of bright triumph through Martha, making her feel more hopeful than she’d been since this all began. Yes, this really had been a long time coming.

“Well, I don’t know what I’d do without you” said Martha. “So you must be doing something right.”

Tosh chuckled softly, her features soft in the dancing firelight. “I think we’re better at this together anyway, don’t you?”

Martha smiled, more sure of this than of anything else in this whole nightmare of a world.

She wouldn’t have been able to say, later, who it was who leaned in first; perhaps they both did, pulled as though by a gravitational force, by the inevitability that comes after mutual affection has been left to its own devices for long enough. But either way, they were narrowing the space between themselves, lips meeting in a gentle kiss. Almost tentative at first, exploratory in the ringing silence around them, broken only by the crackle of the fire. But after they’d pulled back slightly, eyes meeting in the dimness, Martha was encouraged by the look she saw in Tosh’s face to lean in and kiss her again. Tosh’s lips were as chapped as her own were but they tasted like comforting relief, like tasting cool water and only then realising you’d been dying of thirst.

Tosh was the one to turn the kiss heated, hand coming up behind Martha’s neck to pull her close, with a soft, wordless noise as their lips met once more.

And it was Tosh who gently bore her down to their bed roll – close to the fire to stay warm but not too close, lest they get burned – and leaned down over her.

All in all, Martha thought in a daze, this was the best night she’d had in a long time. The thing was, they both _needed_ this, as much as they needed air to breathe. As much as the world needed them, they needed each other. Their lips meeting, hands on each other’s skin and their bodies pressed close, felt vital and precious and _right_.

Afterwards they lay together, warmed and sated, Tosh’s eyes staring up at the shadows dancing on the cave ceiling as Martha traced her fingers over the scars on her shoulder. They both had them, all over their bodies, healed-over marks and pits and abrasions, signs of everything they’d survived. They were quiet, talking in low voices and pausing every now and then to kiss peacefully in the last of the light of the fire as it died away, before dropping off into a deep sleep, safe for a brief moment in each others’ arms.

They left with the first light of dawn faded the stars away to nothing: on to somewhere new.

* * *

It had been ten months now, and they were lying stretched together under a blanket in tiny cramped camp bed. The room was windowless, a cellar under a former bar, now resistance weapons storage vault, in Dresden; their first time back in Europe in months. Last night, Tosh had managed to fix the signal jammer to her satisfaction, and it was sitting up in the building’s attic, keeping the whole place safe; the building looked like a radio black spot to the toclafane, which they’d been making use of by speaking to as many people as would fit inside the cramped, sweaty space of the bar, telling them about the Doctor while several impromptu translators – as always, it was whoever they could find – rendered their words in German, French, Russian, Arabic, and German and British sign languages, Tosh doing a quick translation into Japanese afterwards.

It had been draining, talking so much, as it always was; by this point, Martha was mostly just tired. Except now they had a few precious hours alone, hours to hold each other and be just the two of them, rather than _Martha Jones and Toshiko Sato_ , the legendary women who walked the earth.

Before they’d had quiet, sleepy sex in the warm dark under the blanket, both of them exhausted but needing the comfort. Now, they were just curled up in each other’s arms, Martha’s face pressed to the side of Tosh’s head. Unwilling to let her go, even when the morning came.

If they got out of this, Martha found herself thinking as she held Tosh, listening to her heartbeat, then she didn’t think she’d be able to live without Tosh; somehow, somewhere along the way, they’d become everything to each other.

She pressed a kiss to Tosh’s temple, making Tosh laugh quietly. “Go to sleep, Martha” she said.

But Martha only propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at Tosh. “You know, everyone in the world knows our names” she said, her other hand coming up to touch the Tardis key on its loop of string around her neck.

“I should hope so” said Tosh nervously. “Otherwise this whole thing wouldn’t work very well. No one’d turn up to listen to us talk.”

Martha chuckled, leaning down to kiss her. “Well, obviously, but…” she ran her thumb over the key again, thinking of something Tosh had told her a long time ago, right back at the very beginning, “...pretty good going for two invisible women, yeah?”

Tosh laughed a little at that, staring at Martha with an impossibly fond expression on her face. “Yeah, I’d say so” she said, reaching up to touch Martha’s face. “But you never were invisible, Martha. Not to me.”

Martha only smiled, leaning in to kiss her again.

* * *

It was nearly the time the Doctor had whispered to Martha; it was less than twenty-four hours away now, and Martha was nervous, reaching out for Tosh’s hands, callused, skilled and gentle hands, made for fixing things. Holding them brought Martha more comfort than she knew how to explain.

They grasped each other’s hands as Professor Docherty opened up the sphere, eyes wide with shared horror as they realised what was inside. They hardly stopped clinging on as Tom helped them get away, hiding them away in a house so familiar, so jarringly like the one Martha had grown up in, but filled with huddled figures, listening to them as they spoke about the Doctor in soft voices. They saw people’s eyes lingering on their joined hands; they’d have heard the stories, Martha knew, about the two women who walked the earth, relying on each other, the love between them unbreakable. Keeping them going long enough to save the world.

Because that was what it was, she thought; love. But a different kind from the love she’d felt for the Doctor: it was different and deeper and profoundly human, more immediate, grown close and trusting over time. It wasn’t the same love that the people thought it was, either; theirs wasn’t some grand love story, or if it was then that was what the tale had grown into as it had spread. But to Martha it was just the two of them, her and Tosh in a great big lonely and terrifying world that wanted them dead, clinging together in the night because it was better than facing the dark alone.

As the blue lights flashed outside the door, helicopters whirring in the sky above as they were finally found – just as they’d planned – she pressed a firm kiss to Tosh’s knuckles, for good luck.

They were holding hands, clinging together in sudden fear and horror in a dark, damp London street, as they saw Tom Milligan fall in front of them. Their eyes met as they let the Master’s people take them.

Both knowing it was nearly time.

* * *

The end, when it came, was terrifying, and joyous, and maybe a little anticlimactic. Martha clung to her family, sobbing in her sister’s arms until all her tears were used up, her face sore and hot but her heart clearer. Beside her Tosh held her mother so tightly in her arms, and Jack – beaten and bloodied but still alive, even though she could hardly believe it – gently took the gun from Lucy Saxon’s slack hand.

And then it was over; time had reset, their work was done. And of course, that was what they had wanted, that was what they had planned for, for a year; Martha felt like falling into bed exhausted, sleeping for at least a whole year more to make up for lost time, only waking up now and then to cry in joy and desperate relief.

But nevertheless, something was tugging at her heart, with a sense of fear and preemptive loss; now that it was over, would she lose Tosh? Would the love that they had grown and nurtured and that had sustained them over the past year fall away, meant as a stopgap measure, like stitches on a healing wound? She didn’t want it to, she realised as she stood there, staring down onto the world from the observation deck of the Valiant on a new morning. She wanted to carry on, to build something new in this new-old world together.

But would Tosh want that too? Suddenly Martha was terribly, irrationally afraid that she wouldn’t, that she’d just go back to Torchwood without Martha, and then–

“Martha?”

She turned, too fast, as Tosh appeared at her side, the start of a nervous frown on her face. “Tosh! ...Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Jack’s looking after everyone. I just spoke to him. ...He also, ah. Suggested that I say… I mean, that I ask you...”

Martha frowned at the expression of Tosh’s face, a renewed wave of dread starting to rise. “What?”

“I was wondering” said Tosh, looking very nervous, “...if you’d like...”

Martha stared at her, apprehensive.

“Oh, it’s stupid” said Tosh, with a sigh. “Never mind.”

“No, what were you going to say?”

“….I was wondering if you’d want to… go out somewhere, sometime. With… me. You know, now this is over.” She grinned, big and apprehensive, words coming out all in a nervous tumble. “There’s this pub I like, back in Cardiff near the Hub, does okay food and they have a pool table… look, what I’m saying is, everything back down there will be back to normal, so I just thought… we could try _normal_ , too. A fresh start” she shrugged, blushing under Martha’s scrutiny. “Sorry. Told you it was stupid.” She stared at her feet.

It was all Martha could do not to laugh, with the bright upwelling of relief she was feeling. “Tosh.” Immediately, Tosh’s head snapped up to meet her gaze. Martha leaned in and kissed her, with all the affection she had in her heart. “Of course I’d love to. ...Yes, let’s try normal. Normal sounds good. But we don’t need to start completely afresh. ...There are some parts of this year I’m very glad I can remember.”

Tosh stared at her a moment, then beamed, the expression lighting up her whole, beautiful face. She stood on her tiptoes and looped her arms around Martha’s shoulders, pulling her in against her chest to kiss her again. At the same moment the clouds parted outside the window, letting the morning sun shine through.

“Also” said Tosh, when they broke apart, still holding hands, “Jack told me to send you to him when I was, um, done. ...He has an offer he wants to discuss with you.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Cardiff!” said the Doctor, throwing open the Tardis door. “First stop.”

“Hey, we’re home!” said Tosh; she and Jack were laughing, huge matching grins on their faces as they emerged into the paved city square by the bay. Martha found herself smiling too as she watched them, feeling a gentle warmth bloom through her chest.

“Ah, it’s good to be back!” said Jack with a blinding grin, picking Tosh up by the waist and spinning her around in a big, spontaneous hug until she was giggling.

“Well?” said the Doctor, looking between the three of them. “Is this goodbye?”

“Not forever” said Jack. “I’m sure I’ll see you out there, some day.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it” said the Doctor with a sigh, but the way he smiled and nodded at Jack showed an understanding they hadn’t had before.

“And I’m going with Jack, obviously” said Tosh. “We need to make sure the team’s been okay without us.”

He nodded, beginning to turn to Martha. But before he could get a word out she was holding out her phone to him. “This is for you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a phone. My phone.”

“I mean, I _probably_ could have told you that” said the Doctor, turning the phone over in his hands and frowning slightly. “Any particular reason you’re giving me this?”  
  
“So I can phone you” said Martha, the words coming all at once. “If I – if _we_ – need you.”

The Doctor stared at her for a moment, then breathed out and nodded, face changing to a smile after another moment. “Yeah” he said, smiling gently. “That makes sense.”

“Yeah” she said, holding his gaze; she felt the prickle of tears in her eyes, despite everything. Just because her life had turned in a different direction, didn’t mean she wouldn’t miss him. “And I want you to stay out of trouble, okay?”

“I’ll do my best” he said, with a chuckle. “What are you going to do?”

Martha looked at Jack; they’d had a conversation earlier, back on the Valiant, and Martha had made her decision then, but even so... well, she’d known this would be hard, she supposed. She looked at the Doctor. Then she looked over at Tosh, holding her gaze for a long, long moment.

Suddenly, she realised she’d never been quite so sure of anything in her life. She looked back at Jack with a smile, slipping her hand into Tosh’s. “Well, the thing is, I’ve been offered this new job, see? With Torchwood” she said, as Jack beamed and put his arm around her. But she looked back at the Doctor, feeling a slight stab of guilt at the expression on his face; he looked happy for her, but a little sad too. “Doctor...”

“It’s okay” he said, smiling.

“Yes, it is. I… I think I need this, Doctor.”

“I know, Martha.”

“I know you know. But listen” she said, stepping away from Tosh and Jack so she was standing in front of him. Wanting to make him understand. “I spent so long thinking I was second best, but you know what? I am good.” She stepped backwards again between them and squeezed Tosh’s fingers. “And anyway, I think I’ve found where I’m supposed to be. Time to stop traveling.”

The Doctor smiled, big and warm, looking between her and Jack and Tosh on either side of her. “Defending the Earth” he said proudly. “Can’t argue with that.”

“...Aw, c’mere” she said, throwing her arms around him in a big hug; beside her, Tosh and Jack began to laugh, before joining in themselves.

* * *

After the Doctor had left again, the three of them stood by the water tower in the windy sunlight under the clouds. It was odd, thought Tosh, and a little surreal. This was almost exactly the spot where she’d been standing when the Tardis had first materialised beside her, a year ago by her own reckoning, but much less for the rest of the world; she half expected to see the retreating backs of Gwen, Ianto and Owen walking away from her still. Only so much had changed, she had so many memories that no one else had. Horrors that would live with her forever, give her nightmares as long as she lived, and no one else would understand, except for–

“Tosh?”

“Tosh? You in there?”

She was jolted out of her daze by Martha and Jack’s voices; Martha, still holding her hand, gave it a worried little squeeze.

“Oh” she said, smiling a little. “Sorry. Just… drifted off for a moment there.”

Jack smiled, steering her with a hand between her shoulder blades. “Come on” he said. “Let’s get back to the Hub.”

“Are the others in, d’you think?” said Tosh. “I’ve missed them!”

“ _Me too_ ” said Jack, smiling softly so that Tosh knew he was also thinking about Owen, Gwen and Ianto. He raised his arm with the vortex manipulator, giving it a tap. “I just checked the comms, they’re out on call, but let’s get back before we go out to meet them. Change clothes, get something to eat, show Martha her new desk–”

“Check no one’s messed with my directory structure on Mainframe” grumbled Tosh, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face; they really were home.

Jack chuckled, putting an arm around each of them. “They wouldn’t dare. It’d be like touching Ianto’s coffee machine, and…” he tailed off, going a little misty-eyed. “Hell, I can’t wait to see Ianto again. I’ve missed him.”

Tosh grinned at him. “You better buy him apology flowers after this. From his perspective you just upped and left for four months, with not a word of warning.”

“D’you think he’d want flowers?” said Jack, looking almost apprehensive. “Because, you know, while I was up there–” they all shivered at that, knowing the weight of horror that the slightly emphasised words carried “–I was thinking about him… I think I’m gonna ask him on a date. A proper date, dinner, a movie, everything. Do you think he’ll say yes?”

Tosh blinked, then laughed softly at how uncharacteristically nervous Jack looked, patting him on the arm. “I think he’ll be a little confused, at first” she said. “I would never have thought you were the type, before.”

“I know” said Jack sadly, putting his hands in his coat pockets. “But...”

“But I think there’s no reason he shouldn’t say yes” said Tosh, rubbing his arm comfortingly. “As long as you apologise properly...”

“Message received. I can do that” said Jack, the excited grin back on his face again. “C’mon then. No time to waste, team.”

And with that, he began to walk across the pavement, towards the invisible lift.

Tosh turned to look at Martha, before going to follow him. “See? Whole new world” she said, holding out her hand again. “Ready?”

“ _Ready_ ” said Martha firmly, taking her hand and holding it tight.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a lyric from “Brighter” by Patent Pending, a song with the exact hopeful vibes I need right now.  
> Also, in the Siberian resistance base dance scene I imagine someone managed to salvage the exact “Greatest Hits of the 60s” compilation album that used to be just sort of floating around my house growing up.  
> Anyway, I hope you liked that! And I find myself wanting to write more in this AU so maybe I will make it a series? In which case stay tuned for more, and/or let me know what kind of side-story scenarios/continuations/sequels you’d liked to see! Find me on tumblr @ultraviolet-eucatastrophe, and happy holidays everyone <3


End file.
